Predicament
by Asano
Summary: Time travel has its share of hazards and dangers. Some are just more amusing than others. Tenth Doctor and Rose. Might contain spoilers for season 2.


"Rose, I swear…if you don't tell me what is the matter with you, I'm going to subject you to full body scan. They hurt, and more importantly, they take forever to do. So, all in all, it would serve both our interests if you would stop being a prat and just tell me what hurts!"

"I am not being a prat!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes heavenward, or at least ceiling-of-the-TARDIS-ward and gave the Sight of Ultimate Exasperation. "Rose."

"No," she said firmly, folding her arms across her chest.

"Rose," he repeated, mimicking her pose.

She groaned. "Look, it's nothing, really, it's fine. It'll go away on its own."

He snorted. "How do you know that, then? Where's your medical degree?"

"Oh, like you're a real doctor all of a sudden."

"I am, too!"

Rose rolled her eyes at him. "No."

He stared her down for another minute, then finally shrugged and waved a hand in the air. "Fine. On your head if you keel over. But I will not," he waggled a finger at her to emphasize his point, "have you bleeding all over my TARDIS. The spilt tea took enough time to clean up, I don't want to think about how long it'll take to clean your pink brain goo off the controls if you fall and smack your head on something."

"Fine."

"Right."

"Good," she nodded, crossing her arms again.

"Right, have a seat while I figure out how to get us past the Gabervarianite Fleet blockade, and then we'll decide where to go next." The Doctor pointed to the oversized chair to one side of the controls, then returned his attention to whatever bits he was trying to rewire.

Rose chewed her bottom lip and cast a wary glance at the chair. After a moment's consideration, she elected to keep standing right where she was. Sitting down might have disastrous consequences.

"Okay," the Doctor was muttering to himself, "if I remember correctly, and I do…at least, I think I do. At any rate, there should be a certain frequency that's invisible to Gabervarianite sensor technology. If I can make what's left of our force field vibrate at that frequency, we should be able to pass right through without attracting any nasty little exploding missiles of the Ruin Your Day variety."

He looked over at her, beaming, pleased with his own brilliance. "Rose?"

"Yes, Doctor? Sounds like a good plan to me. I mean, not that I'd really be able to tell if it was a shite plan, but I'm sure it'll work out just grand."

"Rose," he said again, slowly, "you're not sitting down."

"Ooo, you are brilliant, aren't you?"

The Doctor blinked. "And you're snippy and defensive and," he tilted his head at her, a smile beginning to form, "not sitting down."

Rose shifted her weight uncomfortably, and winced in spite of herself. "Your point being, Captain Obvious?"

His smile split into a huge grin. "You," he pointed at her, giggling, "have got a massive splinter in your backside, haven't you?"

"I hate you."

The Doctor clapped his hands together and cackled madly. "You have, haven't you! Oh, that's just brilliant, that is!"

"Seriously, Doctor," Rose sighed. "I have nothing but hate in my heart for you right now."

"You," he gasped between guffaws, "have got a bum splinter!"

"Nothing but hate."

He wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. "How did that happen, then?"

Rose stared at him in disbelief while inside her brain a furious debate raged on whether or not to suck up the pain, waddle over to him, and smack him soundly across the back of the head. "How?" she repeated, her voice raising an octave. "Do you think it might have something to do with you pushing me out of a tree?"

"Oh, you were fine! You said you used to climb trees as a kid."

"Earth trees, Doctor. Not giant, prickly, slippery, slime-covered mutant trees from the swarms of Isavius VII!"

"Oi," he protested. "If I hadn't pushed you down those last few feet, your head would've been snatched off by one of the hoverflies. I wasn't kidding when I said those things were carnivorous."

"You neglected to mention them when we landed," she pointed out. "I don't mind danger, but it in a situation like that, it's usually a good idea to tell me what wildlife to not disturb under any circumstances."

He held up a hand. "Not my fault, they're not usually active this time of year. The Gabervarianite ships blasting into low orbit woke up the colony."

"Of course they did," she smiled in spite of the insistent, sharp pain in her rump.

The Doctor smiled back at her, and her own smile grew wider. You just couldn't stay irritated with that face, and he damn well knew it. Bastard.

After a second's attention to the controls, he gave satisfied nod, then stepped over to stand directly in front of Rose, looking down his nose at her. "Now, then," he said, "let's see if we can't do something to fix your…er…predicament."

Warily, Rose took a step backwards. "Doctor, really, it's fine. Pair of tweezers and a mirror and I'll be right as rain."

He was wearing a different sort of smile on his face, one she caught out of the corner of her eye occasionally when he thought she didn't know he was looking at her. Rose's breath caught in her throat as the Doctor closed the gap between them, nose inches from hers. His eyes stared into hers, and they were so big and brown and warm and…God, she was having problems remembering to breathe.

She sucked in a breath, but that didn't help at all because it just smelled like him, all warm and glowing and…oh, hell.

Belatedly, she realized that the whirring sound she was hearing wasn't her head being fuzzy…it was something more familiar. Rose managed to look away from the Doctor just in time to see him slip the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket. When she looked back at him, he was grinning a big Cheshire Cat grin from ear to ear.

"You…" she sputtered, "I…but…"

"There now," He cooed, giving her a quick pat on the rump and a saucy wink. "All better?"

She should kick him. Or kiss him. Maybe kick him, then pull him in a for a kiss. Maybe she wouldn't let go, maybe she'd just hold him in a long, wet kiss until both of them ran out of breath and her body was pressed so hard against him that she'd leave wrinkles in his suit. Maybe she'd do anything other than stand there, gawping at him like a fish out of water while he just stood there, grinning, winking, and crowing.

"Well, now," the Doctor said, darting away from her before her brain could form a coherent counterattack, "where to next?"


End file.
